Monster
by Haley M. Taylor
Summary: Franceour slowly becomes a monster as his loved ones pass before his eyes, alone and broken, but will one teen with a golden voice change this fate? Rated T since I'm paranoid. FranceourXOc
1. Memories That Pass

**To the people that are reading this, the first chapter is credited and dedicated to MightANT, for allowing me to expand his story, ****_Monster._**

**Warning: Much angst ahead**

_**~Un Monstre a Paris (c) Europa~**_

* * *

As time progressed, the flea grew far too used to being alone.

Francoeur was not at fault for this—but time had become a cruel, wicked thing, taking from him everything he held dear. An epitome, he supposed—a monster didn't deserve such luxuries as friendship, or heaven forbid, love.

The cabaret was silent, as it always was nowadays, and Francoeur had yet to become accustomed to the stillness. The club was empty, thick layers of dust and grime coating most everything in sight, and a majority of the chairs that had been stacked on top of the tables had toppled over in senseless heaps on the stained and faded carpet. The stage, once glittering with the soft glow of a spotlight, was dark, deep scratches running across the mahogany, the light fixtures ripped from their standings. The voices that had once sung upon it had long been silenced. Deep, garnet curtains that had once hung from the sides in vivid pride were now tattered and torn, hanging loosely and partially hid the demolished diorama that had been a recreation of Paris' buildings and landmarks, destroyed by the flea in an uncharacteristic fit of rage ages ago….he'd lost track, exactly.

Francoeur surveyed the cabaret floor silently from the confines of an old balcony seat, crouching lowly on the ledge. Oh how long ago it had been….he could see himself now, a younger more vibrant version and Lucille, ever clairvoyant, as they danced gaily across the stage, their voices ringing out in a crisp symphony over the club goers…..but no more.

The flea shivered at an unexpected chill, turning his head with a slight chirp—the only sounds he made now—laying eyes on a shattered window, not twenty feet away from where he was seated. He'd forgotten about that, having been meaning to patch it up….Francoeur shuddered again, sinking lowly into his trench coat, even more tattered than when he'd first found it all those years ago…..when Lucille found _him_. It was all he wore now, his stocky and broad build bare save for the long jacket, and at times even the same wide-brimmed hat over his eyes. There was no purpose, otherwise. It wasn't as if he'd be going outside, anyhow….at least not in daylight.

Francoeur was barely startled by the sudden cry to his left, and the gibbon quickly landed deftly at his side. The flea offered the monkey a rare smile, hardly any of the life and vivacity it would've had before, but a smile nevertheless.

Charles gave a small trill, pulling his faded vest in greeting. The gibbon's pristine white fur had given way to grey long ago, covered various parts of his body with faded splotches. Francoeur raised a three-fingered hand, laying it on the chimp's hatless head, softly rubbing the fur atop his cranium, Charles having lost his cap some time ago. The gibbon gave a sympathetic sort of sound, resting lowly on his knuckles. The flea only sighed, and the both looked over the abandoned club from above.

Looking back on it, his companions' demises had all been unexpected, as those things often were.

Lucille had, ironically and tragically enough, been the first, and perhaps most painful. The young cabaret singer had been stricken with a deadly illness….one they could find no cure for. Her friends and loved ones were forced to watch the petite woman gradually wither away, unable to do a thing to aid her as she became more frail and sickly with time. The days she breathed her last, Lucille had been lying in bed, cushioned by pillows and bundled with thick blankets, surrounded by everyone she loved. Lucille had all but lost the power of speech in her weakened state, and had instead settled for giving all of her friend's weary smiles, only a twinge of happiness present at having them all with her. As her frail chest shuddered, she grasped one of Francoeur's four hands, clasping it with all the strength she could muster. His fiery red eyes had been the last thing she'd seen before her own fell shut.

The ceremony that followed was all too somber. At a cemetery in the center of Paris, overlooking the Seine in fact, was where they finally laid the singer to rest. A group of laborers had carried her casket—the mourners, a large group of over fifty men and women, all gave the flea strange looks, but they were to be expected. Francoeur had come wearing his usual white ensemble, even receiving glares from his fellow mourners, all dressed in black, but he paid them no heed. Lucille had told him long ago that white was seen as the true color of death.

Emile and Raoul had stood by him, rain beginning to fall down in sheets, instantly soaking the three of them to the bone. None of them cared, and they stood by Lucille's grave for hours on end.

After the singer's death, Francoeur hadn't been the same. None of them had been, really. But by then it was quite clear that the flea had changed. More distant and reserved, he hardly ventured from the confines of the cabaret….but soon that too became a problem. With the loss of their star performer, the club began to gradually lose its customers, until it had gone completely out of business. The building fell into disrepair, and abandoned by all expect Francoeur.

Raoul and Emile would try to coax him out of his depression, but the flea answered to no one other than Lucille. And even so, their attempts continued for some time nevertheless. But fate couldn't leave well enough alone.

A mere five years after the singer's passing, Emile followed. His death, in many ways, had been even worse—alone and on his way from work one night, the small man had been mugged. Three attackers had come out of the shadows, demanding that he give them his camera—a truly expensive piece of equipment that he took with him everywhere. Emile had refused. By the time he was found the following morning, it had been too late.

The flea had come out of hiding to comfort and consol both the hysteric Maude and Raoul both. But things only grew worse when the police returned with the few possessions Emile had been found with—his camera had been taken, but his bowler hat and pocket watch from his grandfather remained, along with a small black box found in his coat pocket. He'd apparently been on his way to propose to Maude.

The forthcoming sadness had been too much for the petite woman to bear.

And then it had only been Francoeur and Raoul who remained, not to mention Charles. The Frenchman had fulfilled his dream of becoming an inventor in the years that passed—how many exactly, the flea had lost count—and as far as he knew, the human never married. The inventor, in his late forties then, had come to visit Francoeur at the abandoned cabaret at least once a month, if only to keep each other sane.

Raoul had died of a heart attack over a year ago.

Francoeur hadn't a visitor in months now…there was no one left to visit him. The empty club had become his home, his sanctuary within the city, the only place where the pain of his loss and happiness at the memories that remained would join into one melded feeling—the kind of emotion that made one want to sob with joy, and then throw oneself into the Seine the next. And Francoeur would admit, the thought had crossed his mind, however fleetingly, but it wasn't what Lucille would've wanted, his subconscious would rebuttal. But would she wish for him to be miserable then, living alone for the rest of his seemingly-immortal life?

Those who came to the cabaret were usually teenagers—itching to destroy, to steal, to vandalize what he praised more about all else. Others wished to tear down the building itself. And this did not bode well for him, not Francoeur, who could still hear the voice of his beloved echo through the high-vaulted ceiling, and feel her hand in his gloved one, petite and fragile to his large and rough. He would never _harm_ the trespassers, only frighten then enough so that they wouldn't return. And most never dd.

Francoeur had lost track of how much time had passed—all he knew was that even the buildings around the cabaret were soon abandoned as well, the entire portion of Paris falling into disrepair. The city changed, the technology—the cars looked smoother, built sturdier—even the humans, from the flea's vantage point. Especially their capacity for war.

Charles' fur grayed more every year, to the point that Francoeur knew he wouldn't last much longer. He didn't know for how much longer _he_ would live—the potion he'd first been given had life-altering effects on his body, perhaps it had even granted him immortality, to a fault, at the very least. And so, he had been forced into watching all he held dear pass away with time.

Francoeur would learn to live with the curse he'd been given, and the monster he was gradually becoming.


	2. Her Voice

**I would like to say _Merci_ to the Fanfictioners out in the world who are reading this. In fact have a cookie.(::) R&R. Also I dedicate this Chapter to dogcake, who is one of my first fan fiction friends.**

* * *

**-Jenive's POV-**

I'd have to say one thing, I _love_ Paris! It has elegant food, beautiful scenery from the Eiffel Tower and it holds the best singers. The one thing I hate about it, I didn't have the money for any of it! My Aunt Heather decided to abandon me when I was 14 with little money, but that was 3 years ago. Now, with satchel on shoulder and scarf on neck, I walk on what I call _The Ghost Street._ It did give me chills but I usually kept going, but something made me stop, I heard chirping. I looked up to see if it was a bird but no luck, I heard the chirping again, it coming from The Rare Bird. I tugged on my tattered coat as it got colder and gained the courage to walk inside. It looked fairly abandoned as dust floated in the air and stuck on pieces of furniture. I saw a hole in a wall a few feet away from me, and when I mean a hole I mean a 7 foot hole with bricks scattered on the ground. I walked forward slightly and noticed a poster of an singing angel and a 7 foot guy with a guitar on the ground, making me curious. I sighed slightly and looked around some more, finding a broken comb, a broken mask, a white chapeaux and a blue scarf." I wonder who these belonged to?" I asked myself, mystery becoming a mist in my mind. I heard chirping again as I set the comb down. I placed the chapeaux on my head, replaced my grey scarf with the blue one and was able to get part of the broken mask on my face. I found a long mirror that was slightly cracked nearby the stage and took a long look at myself. The scarf and chapeaux matched with my slightly tattered light blue dress and the mask made me look like a female version of the Phantom of the Opera, Erik. I sighed then walked onto the stage and looked at the 'invisible' audience as I took a deep breath. Instead of breathing out, I gave a harmonic note, starting my song.

**-Franceour's POV-**

As I was talking to Charles, I felt a presence in the abandoned Cabaret. At first I just ignored it but I heard footsteps and a voice, _**' I wonder who these belonged**** to**__**?' **_I whipped my head to the voice and gave a chirp out of curiosity. I would usually go down and scare who ever it was out but this one was different from the others, this one was a lady. I watched as she put on the white chapeux as well as the scarf and mask but all I could of seen was her wavy black hair. I heard her give a small sigh before going up onto the stage and breath in deeply. I was expecting her to just breath out but instead she gave a beautiful harmonic note and started singing.

"_ Beneath in the Opera House_  
_I know he's there_  
_He's with me on the stage_  
_He's everywhere_  
_and do I sing again_  
_For now I find_  
_The Phantom of the Opera is there_  
_Inside my mind..."_

I smiled slightly as I listened to her sing the classical words of _The Phantom of the Opera. _Her voice was strong as well as powerful but yet it was sweet and light, almost like Lucille's. I shook my head of the thought and kept listening.

_"In sleep he sang to me_  
_In dreams he came_  
_That voice which calls to me_  
_and speaks my name_  
_and do I dream again_  
_For now I find _  
_The phantom of the opera is there _  
_Inside my mind..."_

As I listened to her, I somehow felt as if she was singing from her heart, the depths of her soul. I looked to her emerald eyes to notice small tears that she was wiping off.' So she is singing from her heart.' I thought as I keenly listened, soon suprised of the risen volume of her voice and the verse.

_"Those who have seen your face draw back in fear, _  
_I am the mask you wear _  
_It's you they hear_

_Your spirit and my voice in one combined, _  
_The phantom of the opera is there _  
_Inside my mind."_

I gave a genuine smile as I clapped and chirpped. She had a beautiful voice, a golden voice as sweet and smooth as honey. She shook her head and looked up at me with wide eyes but there was one thing different in her reaction, when she saw me...

* * *

**Cliffhanger! As all the Fantom Phans out there know, the song was the solo version of 'Phantom of the Opera'. I know I might never be as good as MightANT when it comes to this but it's worth trying. So please give me positive criticism, as in if It was good or if it needs a little work.**

**I don't own A Monster in Paris or Phantom of the Opera, only Jenive.**


	3. Beauty and Wonder

**Hello fanfictioners! I'm sorry about not updating, writers block and everyday life. Any way, I would like to say thank you to unibbie, Ace Lyn, storygirl99210, Saphirabrightscale and everyone else for viewing and/or reviewing as well as favoriting(I jumped happily at my first favorite Ace) and following.**

**I own only Jenive, nothing else.**

* * *

**-Jenive's POV-**

I smiled at him, even though I was shocked. A lot was going through my mind at 100 miles an hour. '_Who is he? Is he friendly? Am I doomed? Has he been watching me the whole time? _' He looked at me for a moment and chirped curiously, walking out of the light. I finally could see who, or what, he was. He was 7 feet tall(_'So he probably made that hole in the wall.'_), had blue skin with white freckles on his cheeks, four arms, two legs, orange-red eyes, mandibels, and was spikey-ish. I also noticed he wore a black chapeaux along with a red scarf and a black trench coat that was very tattered. I looked up to his eyes while taking a step back, only to fall backwards. He stepped forward and knelt down slightly.'_Great,'_ I thought to myself,'_ I going to be killed by a mutant flea.'_ I closed my eyes to only hear a soft chirp and feeling a hand pulling me up. I open my eyes to find me and him standing up on our feet, looking at each other. I gave a small smile and said quietly." _M-merci._" He nodded and gave a small chirp, as if to say 'Your welcome'. I then took off the chapeaux as well as the scarf and handed them to him. He gave a small nod and placed them onto the stage. When he came back he helped me take off the mask, so I wouldn't get cut by one of the edges. He placed the mask back to where it was and then looked at me. He touched my hair and my cheeks, which made me blush a lot, making him touch my cheek again. I gave a small smile and finally used my words." Do you have a name?" He nodded and signed with his fingers,_ F-r-a-n-c-o-e-u-r._" Your name is Francœur? That's a very nice name. My name is Jenive." He smiled and cooed, making me smile. I could tell that he was saying he liked my name." _Merci._"

**-Francœur's POV -**

I looked at her and chirpped.' _Who is she, this ange?_' I thought as I soon walked to the light. I could see her better than when I was up on the balcony. I noticed that her dress was tattered and was a faded blue. I saw her look up to my eyes and then fall backwards, so I took a step forward and knelt down. She closed her eyes, her beautiful eyes, in fright. I asked her, though only a soft chirp emitting,' Are you alright?' I held her hand, which were surprisingly soft and smooth, and pulled her up. She opened her eyes to look to me and she thanked me, a small smile on her face. I gave a nodded and chirpped a your welcome to her, a smile forming on my face. She took off the chapeaux and scarf to give back to me, so I gave a small nod and placed them onto the stage. When I came back, I noticed she was struggling to not get herself cut so I helped her then placed the mask back to the stage. When I went back I was stunned at her beauty, her emerald eyes gleaming, her pale skin smooth, and her lips were wonderful. I ran my hand through her hair, her gleaming ebony hair, and I touched her cheeks. Her skin was very soft and angelic to the touch, and then I felt the growing warmth of them. I looked to see that her cheeks were red and warm, she was blushing? I touched her cheek again to feel it's warmth and smiled, she was cute when she blushed. She gave a small smile to me and asked me." Do you have a name?" I gave a small nod in answer and started forming letters with my fingers, which she understood."Your name is Francœur? That is a very nice name. My name is Jenive." I smiled and cooed at her name.' Jenive, a very wonder name for this angel.' I saw her smile and blush slightly." Merci." I held her hand gently and gave a small smile, leading her up to the balcony seat.

* * *

**I am sorry about the short chapter if it is one, I am just starting out in writing Fan Fiction after all. So R&R, follow and favorite. Also have a cookie (::). Haley Taylor, out!**


	4. No More!

**Hey guys, I'm sorry but I'm afraid I have lost the 'A Monster in Paris' spirit. There won't be anymore from this but I tried. I just, kept getting grounded and such so, I'm sorry.**


	5. Meeting Charles

**I HAVE RESURFACED! That's right, I am back on track for this story and I will do my best to keep on it. Updates will be slow sometimes and maybe stop but don't worry, this time I am determined to not back down.**

* * *

A smile had formed on my face as Francœur had lead me up the stairs to a balcony seat, were I saw an albino proboscis monkey. The monkey waved slightly as he handed me a card, which I had read out loud."_Charles, retired assistant botanist._" I smiled and gave a curtze in respect." It is wonderful to meet you, Charles. My name is Jenive." Charles hand went to his head to tilt his hat but then remembered, he didn't have one on. I gave a small chuckle as my hand went into my bag." I think this might be yours." I had said as I brought out a green, newspaper boy hat and immediately heard Charles give a holler in happiness, so I handed him his hat with a smile on my face. He handed me another card with a smile that had said 'Thank you', which had made me smile. I gave a small salute and said " It's no problem." As I handed him his card. I heard Francœur chirp slightly then hum the musical scale, which was probably headed toward me. I chuckled and nodded before I sang I small song."_Bellavating Blues why do consist to follow me, _

_as I run around town all alone, _

_Bellavating Blues why can't you even see, _

_I don't wanna wanna go back home. _

_The place where my aunty is mean, mean, mean,_

_ and makes me do all the work, it makes want to scream,_

_All the things that I have said becomes a single sound,_

_So is it really wrong for me go around._" Francœur and Charles both clapped their hands in wonder which made me blush, which lead to Francœur to touch my cheeks again. I once again heard Francœur purr again in complement, so I smiled before my head whipped to the sound of walking footsteps. Francœur looked at me and gave a small chirp in question. I shook my head and said." I have no idea. I didn't bring them." He nodded then pulled me to a curtained area, while Charles went up into the rosters, and hid me behind a curtain. I nodded and waited for the people to leave. I heard a slightly gruff voice talk." Come on you guys, I swear I saw her come in here." I silently gasped in horror. The voice was from Tristan Bellevue, a guy my age who my aunt had tried to pair him to me for marriage. He had grown feelings for me while mine for him was negative for one reason, he was a player. Anyway, I heard two other guys groan and more footsteps.' What is Francœur going to do? Where is he?' My mind had asked itself. The footsteps were getting closer to me, making my stomach twist in fear. I swear I thought they were going to hear my heart's rapid beating and my shallow breath as they got closer. The footsteps stopped next to me, I could smell a very strong cologne in my nose and I could hear them breathing. I saw, through a sliver of the curtains, a hand reaching to the curtain. It grabbed the curtain and I had thought to myself.'I am doomed.'

* * *

**So I hope you guys liked the little cliff hanger(of course not, it makes you guys wait to see what happens) and glad that I have come back. Please don't forget to R&R, as well as read my other stories. Anyway, Its good to see you guys again. You all are awesome.**


End file.
